


Visitations

by Churbooseanon



Series: Starlight Challenges [19]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5475437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Locus returns to the capital city to visit with his betrothed, he finds himself instead thrust back into the gaze of Prince Felix, a place he never wanted to be again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visitations

There were three things Locus Castille, heir to the lands, wealth, and titles of the Earldom of Highridge, knew of the young woman he had become betrothed to this past winter. First was her name and pedigree, which in noble circles might well as be one and the same. She was Lady Vanessa Eloise Angelica Kimball daughter of the Duke of Chorus, well borne, well connected, and cousin to the Queen. Perhaps, were she not so closely related, she may one day have been bound to the Prince as his Princess Consort. Second, the Lady Vanessa was the eldest daughter, but only a daughter at that. This meant that while Locus’s family would no doubt benefit from a fine dowry in land and money, the true profit would be in the trade and political clout her family would extend his by marriage. And third, Locus would never possess the woman’s heart. 

The only reason he knew this last point, though, was because of the quite blunt manner in which she had informed him of this fact. There was a finality, a chill to the firmly spoken words that served to remind Locus that all of this was a carefully arranged legal contract set in place not by mutual desire, but by the unquestionable will of their parents. As ever he must find himself subject to the will of his keepers until such point that he became the master. And until then he found himself bound to the will of his father in this.

Still, there remained a time and a place for such conversations as Vanessa had just initiated, and this hardly felt fitting as either. His family had seen fit to return him to the capital for a visit this summer, that he might become familiar with his betrothed. There were expectations upon him by both families, and though his father might begrudge time wasted in such a course as Locus being away from his duties and training, mother had been insistent. Father had always given a little to mother’s whims, and so for the first time Locus had been brought to the capital for the midsummer festival. Not that he’d see much of the spoken of fun and games, cooped up as he was in the solar of the Kimball manse, partaking in tea and finger foods with Vanessa as their mothers watched on from a not too substantial distance. 

Not that Locus was much enjoying his tea, what with how the delicate bone china cup hovered between the table and his parted lips. Its obvious path had been forestalled by Vanessa’s blunt, unexpected comment. Declaration really. The one that her pale blue eyes demanded an answer to. Yet what response could be given? How did one approach such a problematic statement? 

“I beg your pardon, but is it not too early to make such a blanket statement?” Locus finally found himself capable of saying. “If this is regarding the arranged nature of our…”

“No, no,” Vanessa dismissed before Locus was done speaking, and he fought to control his annoyance. For all their interaction in the past day since his arrival, he had not found a way to be properly indignant at her interruptions. in fact, he remained astounded that someone with such flawless manners toward anyone else might be so slipped and sometimes informal, with him. 

“I am aware that it is, perhaps as often as not, common enough for arranged marriages to mimic or advance to genuine feelings,” Vanessa continued. “Have I not seen it with my own parents? No, the issue here is a simple one. I cannot love you, therefore I will not love you, thus I do not suggest you develop any illusions in that regard. In fact, if you so desire, I am certain something could be arranged after I’ve born you a pair of children so that we will not be bored.”

Still Locus stared at her, mistified by the young woman. This was to be his wife? 

“I suggest you see your mouth closed before our mothers notice and become interested,” Kimball noted in a tone so bored that Locus found his mouth snapping shut of its own volition. 

“I…” he started, unsure of what to say. How did one handle a woman such as this? 

“My suggestion is that when the time comes you find a fitting enough young woman. I would suggest a second or third daughter of a middling house. Fathers cannot always afford to dower them well enough to be tempting, nor do they care to do it. Such young women may act as governesses for favored siblings or other families. If she is quick of wit, willing, and attractive enough for you, I can take her on as a lady’s maid. No one would think it strange of me. Then you can have your marriage and your fun…”

His head practically spun as Kimball spoke the unbelievable words. Was she attempting to arrange an affair for him, before they were married? What good could ever come of that? Did she not think him honorable? He would keep to the word his family had given on his part because that was the way it was done. Yet here she was, already thinking low of him. 

“I assure you, it will not be necessary,” he finally responded as she sipped, slow and proper and poised, at her tea. 

“Oh, it will,” she countered as she lowered her cup and set it aside so that dainty fingers could select a candied nut from the tray between them. “I am not discussing this, I am informing you. While our parents may be of one will, I am markedly of another, and I can see both done. They may see fit to grant my young cousin Donald a position as the heir if he takes our family’s name, but that is the last slight they shall do me. They will not deny me Carolina through your presence.”

Carolina? And who was this man who already assured that Locus would never be the master of his own life? Locus could feel a slow anger start to bubble up, and valiantly he struggled to quell it before he said something remiss. Yet still his lips parted as if to speak words he could never call back. 

Which, of course, was the perfect time to be rescued by a bustle at the solar door. The Duchess Kimball arose and moved to meet a page dressed in the blue and sand colors of house Kimball, complete with the rampant lion upon his breast. The woman and boy spoke quickly and curtly until he was sent running off again and Vanessa’s mother was turning to address them. Or, more specifically, Vanessa.

“I am afraid I must call this tea short, Vanessa,” the Duchess announced. “I beg forgiveness of you as well, Lady Castille, Lord Castille. It seems we have an unexpected guest who desires to speak with my daughter and who cannot be politely turned aside from his intent. May we resume later?”

“Of course,” mother was saying and Locus kept his fuming down as he rose at his mother’s signal. “I believe you mentioned your lovely garden. I shall ask my son to accompany me in…”

“There is no reason anyone should leave on account of myself. Had I known you had guests, Cousin, I would have happily waited,” a voice announced from the solar door and to his credit Locus did not gape at the dreadfully familiar voice. For who should be standing there clad in orange, red, and black but Prince Felix himself? 

Heat rose unbidden to Locus’s cheeks at the sight of the man. How could he not be flustered, given the only other contact he’d had with the royal? The only time he’d met Felix in person had been at the annual Faceless Ball, a masquerade for the nobles which celebrated the height of winter and was known for the chance one had to be someone other than themselves behind their masks. There the two had acted as the partners for the dance of the Sun and Moon, a dance which occurred every winter at the ball with male and female partners. Yet this winter past the prince, selected by his father for the role of the sun, had decided on bringing something new to the age old tradition: selecting a male partner for the role of the moon. Selecting Locus. 

The silver mask he had worn for the dance had been sent to him shortly after as a betrothal gift from the prince himself, and still Locus had it hidden in his room back home. The repercussions were it to be discovered that he had played the moon in the prince’s little farce would no doubt bring stiff punishments down upon him from his father, without mentioning what other repercussions there would be if it was discovered as a general fact. Still Locus feared that the prince, whom he had learned to be a great prankster in the eyes of the court, might turn the shared moment against him some day, to say nothing of what might come of the kiss the smaller man had pressed to his lips and that Locus, to his current shame, had returned with a will. The very thought of the contact made the heat threaten more pointedly at his cheeks, and Locus bit the inside of his cheek briefly to attempt to bring himself under control. 

“Your Highness,” Locus spoke at the same time as his mother, and as he moved into the proper bow to a royal he was startled by a squeal of delight from his side. Could it be that Vanessa was excited to see this beast of a man? 

“Nessa!” Felix said, his own voice rich with shared delight and as Locus looked up he caught sight of Vanessa held in the prince’s arms. Yet as he gazed upon the pair he found his eyes drawn to those of the prince, the intense and lovely hazel eyes that had held his so completely during their dance. 

How, he found himself wondering, could a man so wrapped up with the young woman throwing herself into his arms manage to hold Locus as well? For he felt as if the gaze bound him in place, uniting himself and Felix across the solar, linking them together once more and as surely as the embrace wrapped the noble born cousins. That gaze pinned him in place, and brought him back to a chilly eve, a cloak as dark as night wrapped around him to cover every scrap of fabric, a heavy metal mask upon his face, and confident hands holding him close as they swept together over a marble floor, all other eyes upon them. What was it about the prince that made him long for that night that had so embarrassed him, that so easily could have shamed his family?

No. Locus refused to let himself be caught up in the other man’s aims again. Need he do more than remind himself how Felix had carried on around others before the dance? The prince was no mere trickster. Instead he was a man who desired to be envied by all men, desired by all woman, and talked about at all times. People who thought themselves so important, so central, they were the kind that Locus wanted nothing to do with, and he need only to remind himself of that to break the brief spell those eyes seemed to place upon him. 

“Felix, I cannot believe you would be so rude as to impose upon my sitting with my betrothed,” Vanessa chidded the prince as Locus broke free of that gaze, but there was a tired fondness to her voice that left Locus wondering. His mind could not help but leap back to the conversation Vanessa had ensnared him in. Though the name she used did not fit any of those bestowed upon Prince Felix, was it possible that this man was the source of her distaste of Locus? Did he encourage his cousin to be hostile, to create affairs that he might later humiliate the man who refused to be awed by his behavior? 

“Well, if I might share a secret with everyone, his presence is why I absolutely had to come now,” Felix announced at a staged whisper meant for all to hear. “I have come to meet this betrothed of yours, my cousin. Surely everyone here could spare me that much time.”

“If you wish to meet him, then I see no problem with it. Mother, what do you think?” Vanessa asked.

Because, of course, no one wanted or needed to ask Locus his opinion in this matter. In a way he was little more than a page in this moment, before the assembled ranks and power of those before him. What was he more than the man who was to be married to Vanessa, to even consider having an opinion? And who was he to say no to his prince and one day king? 

“If it is something he and his mother have no qualms over, I will raise no protest, Nessa. You are well aware of that,” the Duchess supplied, and the ease of her words almost made Locus wonder whether she and Vanessa had been in on some sort of plan to this degree before his arrival. After what Vanessa had told him, Locus decided he would not put such conniving actions past either of the Kimball women. 

“It would be an honor, of that I am sure,” Locus’s own mother spoke, and with those words she forced him into compliance. Even if he wanted to shout down the very idea of this arrangement, it was past clear that he had no real choice in the matter. Thus he bowed his head slightly, as if he was being honored, and spoke. 

“A true honor,” he assured the room even though he felt no such thing. That was the only answer allowed to him. 

“Wonderful!” Felix cheered as he released his cousin. “We will, of course, lend you a fine beast to carry you with us. Do they teach rural lords to ride? Oh what am I saying? You probably ride better than either of us. You’ll keep up quite well no doubt…”

“A moment,” Locus cut off Felix’s rambling in his shock of how quickly things were getting out of hand, even taking a step forward to make sure people were looking at, and thus listening to, him. “Ride?”

“Oh yes,” Vanessa laughed. “I suppose I hadn’t told you yet. My cousin and I ride every afternoon. Few of his companions can sit a horse like I can.”

Again Locus was left shocked, and thus time a touch horrified as well. A woman riding in the way implied was… well, while not unheard of it was still hardly proper of one of Vanessa’s rank. Yet not only was her mother going to allow it, but she was going to let Vanessa go riding off with the Prince and himself, and she did this on a regular basis? This young woman was no doubt going to give him a heart attack! 

“I need to change,” Vanessa announced to the room, gesturing briefly to her dress. “This is hardly suited to riding. Felix, if it pleased you, would you assist my betrothed in finding something more suitable in his wardrobe for a vigorous ride.”

Like that the young woman was gone, sweeping away and leaving Locus’s mother to protest into the new, reduced energy of the room. And Locus to boggle at the very idea of Felix escorting him anywhere. 

“You need not concern yourself with such a thing, your Highness,” Locus’s mother said with the nervous politeness that was the armor of a noblewoman both scandalized and flattered. “My Locus is quite capable of…”

“It isn’t a bother,” Felix answered, bringing her up short. “It will be fun, in fact. So, Locus was it? Would you show me to the rooms the Duke’s family have seen fit to set you up in?” 

Locus glanced in askance at his mother, only to see her giving him a small shooing motion with her hands, a gesture discreetly hidden from the Duchess and Prince by her skirts. This was an honor in her view, no doubt, and to develop any sort of connection to the prince, even were it to be through his future wife, would no doubt advance Locus in the eyes of others. She wanted this for her son, and no doubt were his father here the gesture would not have been subtle at all. That didn’t make Locus feel any better. They wanted him more or less alone with the other man, and given their history, he could not be remotely certain it was a good idea. Yet there was no stopping all of this from happening. 

* * * * * *

There were few moments in life that compared to this for awkwardness, Locus decided. Of course a few he could name quite easily, such as the first time he had heard, as a child, that even though he was younger than some of his siblings, he was to be his father’s heir. Then there was the night of the Faceless Ball, where Felix himself, Prince of Valhalla, had guided Locus through the dance and left him with a kiss, a moment made much more awkward upon the discovery of who his dancing partner had been. They were both more awkward than riding with the prince and his betrothed, but even they could not stand up to the feeling of dressing himself in his riding clothes not long ago. 

For one thing there was the fact that his riding clothes could never compare to the fineness of the black leathers Felix wore, accented as they were with the royal orange and crimson. His own riding clothes had been packed more as an allowance in case he might need some time to himself while he was present, or in case he wanted to return home more quickly than his mother might when the visit was over. As such they were fully practical ones, not embellished with fine detail work in the leather, or with boots polished to a high shine. Appearances were one thing. Wasting time on appearances when nothing was to be gained from it another entirely. So there had been some embarrassment in knowing he likely could not compare to either Felix or Vanessa. 

But really, the problem had been the act of dressing itself, for he had done the whole process under the intently watchful eyes of Felix. That hazel gaze had followed him unerringly through the process, and Locus, even when he wasn’t looking himself, could have sworn it felt not unlike a touch. There was nothing solid to a look, this he knew, yet how could he feel it move over him so firmly, catching and pulling briefly at bared skin as surely as hands might? How was it that, despite all pride and sensibility, he had felt a strange acceptance of the phantom touch? Yes, he had been embarrassed to be put on display like an animal for sale, embarrassed to the point of heat in his cheeks and a strange bubbling in his stomach. Even now, as he glanced over at Felix on a finely bred and kept stallion, his stomach had a resurgence of the weird turning, especially when the prince looked upon him. It was as if he was back in that room, bare for Felix to inspect once more. 

“You seem uneasy,” Felix noted with a small frown. “Would that be on account of my presence?” 

Of course the question not only came across as a touch smug from the tone of his voice, but it also came over the neck of Vanessa’s horse. The woman rode a spirited roan between them, and for all of the promise of a spirited ride--a desire clearly mirrored in his borrowed steed--they had not ridden beyond a trot yet. 

“No doubt,” Vanessa supplied as she turned her attention to Felix. Ever since his arrival her attention had been reserved for the prince, as his was mostly on her. The arrangement in no way amused Locus, nor did the way Felix kept glancing at him from time to time, a satisfied curve to his lips. Already it was taking much of his formidable control to keep from glowering at the pair. “I told him of the necessary arrangements today.”

Was it all that surprising that Locus went stiff at that? Already he could feel the way his own tension made the horse under him restless. How could she share such a thing with anyone, much less the prince? The man would surely dislike him for the treatment, even theoretical, of his clearly beloved cousin, and while Locus didn’t feel himself hanging on the prince’s approval, he did not care to be on the man’s bad side. Surely that would make his life more miserable than it already was. 

“Poor man,” Felix laughed. “No doubt many people would wish to earn your heart, Vanessa. How they must grieve that it’s already given.”

“Let them grieve,” Vanessa retorted sharply, and with a little kick the woman was off on her mare, racing ahead of them. 

Locus quickly gathered himself up to race after her, only to be halted by Felix reaching over to put a hand on his shoulder. How had the prince immediately closed the distance between them when Vanessa had taken off? Surely Locus did not know, but he was shocked to find felix there even as Vanessa’s escort, a pair of guards that had been trailing them, rode off after her. 

“Let her go,” Felix said. No, ordered. “Things have never been easy for her, and to have you forced upon her has not gone over well.”

“Forced?”

“Isn’t that what a betrothal is?” Felix asked, rolling his eyes. “Tell me you see that.”

All Locus could do was stare at the prince in shock. Well, for half a moment he turned his gaze to the pair of guards that rode behind him at a bit of a distance. Was this a time to be speaking of such things. 

“Don’t mind Jones and Johnson,” Felix dismissed, obviously having caught the vein of Locus’s thoughts, and that brought his attention back to the prince. “They’ve been with me since I was a boy. They are sworn to me, not my father. Simple as that. What they hear here stays here. They know, as Vanessa does, that had your family not made this arrangement with hers, had they held of a few more years, it would have been easier on her. One of the first things I will do when I take over from my father is rule that women may inherit from their parents. That would have given her power, you know. As her father’s heir.”

The statement made Locus pause. Were it not for the fact that he was riding a creature already in motion, he surely would have fallen behind in his sudden pensiveness. If he recalled correctly… “Don’t…?” 

“I have an older sister?” Felix finished for Locus. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Wouldn’t that mean…” 

Again Felix didn’t let him finish a thought, instead chuckling and nodding. “It’d rather be a prince forever than a ruler. Turns out I’m a bit terrible at the thinking about other people thing. Caring about their desires over my own isn’t easy. See, I put myself first most of hte time. My fun, my pleasure, my… attentions.”

The way those hazel eyes roved over Locus once more forced that previous heat into his cheeks, and Locus turned his eyes to the direction Vanessa had gone riding off in rather than see Felix’s reaction to that. Why did the prince have to tell him this? Did he not think Locus knew part of that? What else but Felix’s amusement could explain all that had transpired between them that night in the winter? The kiss, the feel of those eyes over his body, even the way Felix rode far too close now… All of it came to some joke the man was playing. 

The brush of a warm leg against his nearly sent Locus tumbling out of his saddle in shock. When had Felix, once more, grown closer? The better question was, of course, why. 

“I will not be some sort of repeated joke for you,” Locus informed him, voice barely held to merely stern in the face of his future liege. 

“No,” Felix answered as a hand came to settle on Locus’s leg. The strange trembling in his stomach returned as Locus looked up to meet the prince’s gaze and found a strangely soft warmth there. “You are the most handsome man I’ve ever met, who isn’t impressed by me or my standing, and so I must admit, I’m intrigued enough to, once in my life, act instead of act out.”

“Act?” Locus asked, pulling his mount further away from the prince’s. 

“I figure that, while I have the chance at it, I should have some fun in my life. And bless her, Kimball is willing to agree.”

“Agree?” Locus felt the fool to parrot the words back to the prince. Yet he could fathom no words beyond those. 

“Oh, didn’t you know? This whole visit, and the invitations I know will be extended in the future, they come from me, even if they arrive through my cousin. I hope that isn’t a problem. I want to know you, Locus, before that chance is taken from me forever.”

All Locus could do was stare in shock.

How did one react to that?


End file.
